


All the stars in the sky and you still chose me (HIATUS)

by ceciliansagas



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Age Difference, Cancer, Car Accident, Character Death, Everyone is of age, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Hospitals, Mugging, Not Canon Compliant, Past Child Abuse, Robbery, Some Fluff, Stalking, Trans!Yaku, but they will be taged so you can skip that part if you need!, implied self harm, just previous character deaths, kuroo is a therapist, like 6 years but still, listen this is just a self indulgent i want to hurt yaku fic, mentions of abuse, mentions of ~m u r d e r~, more tags to be added as the fic goes on, mute!yaku, no beta we die like daichi, nonbinary!kenma, not anyone major to the story, pedophelia mentions, queer fucking representation, selective mutism, spousal abuse, t r a u m a, the therapy fic you didnt know you needed, therapist/client relationship, there is mentions of noncon/rape that will happen, theres nothing but angst, yaku has trauma, yakus been through some shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:07:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27282412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceciliansagas/pseuds/ceciliansagas
Summary: (On Hiatus)Yaku is mute.Kuroo is his hot therapist.What could possibly go wrong?Beginnings always seemed so small.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma, Iwaizumi Hajime/Kageyama Tobio, Kita Shinsuke/Miya Atsumu, Komi Haruki/Konoha Akinori, Kuroo Tetsurou/Yaku Morisuke, Sakusa Kiyoomi/Ushijima Wakatoshi, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Terushima Yuuji/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 41





	1. starting from scratch

**Author's Note:**

> HOO OKAY SO THIS IS MY FIRST FIC???? PLEASE BE GENTLE Q~Q  
> Of course my first fic is Kryk bc i have nothing but kryk brainrot  
> ANYWAY thanks for reading if you do! ; w ;

Yaku Morisuke was mute. Well, not all the way, just most of the time. Selective mutism, caused by a traumatic experience. That’s what he’s been told since he was a kid. Ever since said traumatic incident, Yaku had trouble forming words. It’s not that the words weren't there, they were, and he wanted them to come out. They just wouldn’t. Usually stuck on the tip of his tongue as he fought to even get the smallest sentence out. It was like being trapped in his own mind, with no way to express what he wanted to say unless he was typing it or writing. Sign language proved helpful, but the problem was in not many people knowing it. Which limited the ways Yaku could communicate. It was hell. 

It’s been this way since he was ten. Going through therapists and psychiatrists one after another, each with their own versions and ways to help things. But nothing helped. Nothing worked. 

It’s been ten years since then. 

Ten years of near silence. 

He used to be pretty outspoken, loud, so sure of himself and his words. And then.. It happened. And the words stopped working, his mind turning against him. 

Yaku scowls at the outside of the building his mom had driven him too, dropping him off at yet another new doctor. He’s sure this would once again prove to be another useless endeavor. They never helped. He heard someone once tell his mom it’s because he won’t let them help. Maybe they’re right. No one would understand why he doesn’t speak. Why he can’t. What goes on in his head to keep the words from coming out. That keeps him up at night. Fingers clenched into fists in the pockets of his hoodie, a silent huff through his nose as he pushed through the door. 

Years from now, he won’t say he regrets meeting the man who would help him through his trauma. But the moment his eyes meet the god awful bed head and that snarky full of himself smile, Yaku thinks of this moment here? Is one he’ll regret for the rest of his life. Meeting Kuroo Tetsurou was going to ruin his life, and here’s the story why. 

✵✵✵✵✵   
  
He sits across from the new doctor with the same scowl he gives all of them Disbelieving they could ever really help him. Not that he’d really let them in the first place. The man in front of him wears a pleasant enough smile, but the way he held it made Yaku’s lips twist in a frown. He looks at Yaku like he has him all figured out, and neither of them has even said a word yet. 

The session was ten minutes in, still silence surrounding them. It was an intake, which meant this could last a while. The doctor is scribbling things onto a notepad, every so often looking back up at Yaku with that stupid grin. That stupid smile. He barely knew the man and he hated him already. Bullshit. 

As if sensing his growing agitation, the older man sets the pen down against the pad and turns his full attention to Yaku, running a hand through that awful bed head of raven hair. Did he even  _ try _ to fix it in the morning? That smile again, it has Yaku wanting to reach across the expanse and wipe it away, with his fist of course. But that’s unprofessional. 

“Yaku Morisuke, right?” The voice is deeper than he thought it would be, his eyes narrowing as he gives a small nod. “And you’re here.. To work through..” He says as if prompting Yaku to finish the sentence. This earns the doctor a very deadpan look, and a middle finger as a response. 

He expected the man in front of him to react like most of the therapists and psychiatrists had before him, with exasperation at his antics. But the man just laughed and gave him an amused look as if he expected this. A look of surprise flashes across Yaku’s features before he can stop it. Which only encourages that cocky smile. 

“Alright Yaku.” A pause. “How about Yakkun? Let’s get a little familiar, it’ll help us with the process. That way you don’t feel like this is just one sided. I’m here to help you. My name is Kuroo Tetsurou.” He says this earnestly, like he genuinely expected anything he had to say or do was going to help Yaku. It earns a scoff from the smaller as he sinks into his seat. 

“How would you prefer to communicate? I have some paper and pens. We could do text as well. I’ve also been told you’re fluent in sign language.” There’s that stupid grin again. He nods as a response. “Would you rather talk like that? I'm fluent as well, it’s one of the reasons they considered me a match for you.”

He scowls, sighing. It would make talking between them easier, he supposes.Finally he unfurls his hands from around himself to start signing in the space between them. 

_ My name is Yaku Morisuke, but you knew that. I’m only here because I have to be.  _

The words are short, clear, concise and to the point. He doesn’t want to be here, the sooner Kuroo knows that, the better.

It seemed like he already did, with a stack of files behind him he assumed was about him from previous therapists and psychs. From his stays in the ward and hospitals. Thinking about that made him tug nervously at the hem of his hoodie sleeves, pulling them over his hands for the moment. 

Kuroo stares at Yaku for what seems like forever, like trying to piece together his puzzle, before he sighs and smiles. 

“I know that, but i also know you wouldn't be here if you didn’t  _ really  _ want help. So how can I help you, Yakkun?” 

The words take him aback a little, a furrow of his brows to show his confusion.  _ How can I help you?  _ He didn’t know then that such simple words would have such a big impact later. He purses his lips together and lets out a sigh, giving the smallest of uncertain shrugs. 

His hands move before he can think. 

_ I don’t even know how to help myself anymore.  _

A pause. Wait, why was he saying this? Instantly he clasps his hands together, a momentary panicked expression before it's covered up with his usual scowling demeanor. 

But Kuroo was patient.

He talked for them for the rest of the session, offering small tips and tricks for coping with loss and his anxiety. Things he’d heard over and over. They never worked anyway. 

By the time they had finished, Kuroo had written several pages in his notebook, and Yaku hadn’t said or signed a single word since accidentally outing himself. If this wasn’t court mandated, he wouldn’t be here. 

He watches Kuroo look up at the clock and sigh, then back to Yaku with a softer smile. “Alright, looks like our time is up for today. They’ve told me you’re doing two sessions weekly until there's significant progress made, sound good?” He asks, as if Yaku ever had a choice in the matter. 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, standing up from the chair and shoving his hands into his pockets. 

As he heads for the door, Kuroo calls out for him. 

“Yaku, I really am here to help you, but i can’t do that unless you let me. I can’t do that unless you try to help yourself a little too.” 

His shoulder seized up a little, still facing the door, one hand extended. 

“One last thing, here’s my card. It has my number on it. If you need anything, just shoot me a text. I can’t help you, unless you want the help. Just think about it, okay?” 

He sounded so sincere, and maybe that’s why Yaku turns around so quickly and snatches the card from him and shoves it away in his pocket before storming out the door. 

_ How can I help you?  _

He wishes he knew the answer to that. 

✵✵✵✵✵


	2. insight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo recalls a conversation had between himself and Yaku's mother. 
> 
> Kuroo wonders what he can do to help Yaku Morisuke help himelf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW TWO DAYS IN A ROW??? I GUESS????   
> Happy Halloween!!!   
> Again this is my first fic to pls be gentle ><;;; !!!   
> My girlfriend will beta this when she wakes up lmao until then we die like daichi   
> ALSO !!! Big triggers in this chapter!! There are warning before it happens so you can skip if you want. i'll also add more tags that tell what happens!

**Triggering content ahead**

**Tw: rape/noncon, abuse, spousal abuse, child abuse,** **_~ m u r d e r ~_ **

Kuroo sighs as he flips through the folders upon folders, starring none other than his newest patient Yaku Morisuke. 

This kid had obviously been through a lot, at 20 he’d committed defensive murder, been abused to hell and back, attacked a fellow student at his college, and been to the hospital and mental institutes more times than Kuroo had ever seen from previous patients. 

The session had gone about as well as he’d expected it too. He hadn’t expected much from the hot tempered young adult, if anything at all. Previous notes from doctors had said he didn’t open up easily, if he even did. So what little Kuroo had gotten out of him, he counts as some kind of miracle. 

_ I don’t even know how to help myself anymore.  _

The words seemed to echo in Kuroo’s head as he chews on the end of his pen, staring down at his notes. How does he help a kid, who won’t even help himself? How does he inspire him to start fixing the problems in his head? How does he get him to open up and talk about his trauma, which apparently he’s never done before with anyone. The only person who knew the extent of what had occurred as the mother herself, who had been witness to most of it. 

She’d given Kuroo a brief run down about a week before the first session, while Yaku was still in the hospital. 

A sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he recalls the conversation. 

✵✵✵✵✵

Kuroo sat back in his chair, hands crossed over his chest as he waited for the woman in front of him to get comfortable in her chair. She was a small woman, probably no taller than 5’2, with strawberry blonde hair that fell to her shoulders. 

She offers a small, tired smile, sighing as if she’s told this story many times before. She probably had. He knew enough from the files given to him, but he wanted a side of the story paper couldn’t contain. He wanted to know the whole truth. It would help him in figuring out how best to go about his care. 

**TW: Rape, murder, abuse, child abuse, spousal abuse, sexual abuse, child molestation, pedophelia**

“Goodness, where do i begin? Probably the start. It wasn’t always bad. In the beginning, we were a happy family. But then he- he lost his job. He started drinking. We lost the house. It was one bad thing after another. And that’s when it started. It started with a hole in the wall, and he said it’d never happen again. Then it was a slap across the face. Then it was throwing Morisuke against the floor at 5 years old for doing what most 5 year olds do, asking questions. I wish it had stopped there. I wish I had said something. It only got worse.” 

She sounded sad, resigned. The story told so many times over, knowing she should have done something different to save her son from this fate. 

“I don’t know when-” A pause, a sigh. “When the sexual abuse started. He didn’t say anything. I don’t think he ever would have if i hadn’t caught it. It was like he was trying to sacrifice himself to keep me safe-” Her voice breaks, heaving a shaking sigh as she continues. “I knew something was off. I knew something bad had to be happening, worse than the physical abuse he showed in front of me. Because for me, it nearly ceased. But for Morisuke, it was so much worse. Did you know, during one of his episodes, he admitted he let his father do these things to him because he’d promised to stop hurting me if he did. He  _ let  _ Keiske touch him, and hurt him like that so he wouldn’t do that to  _ me _ .” There are tears welling, and Kuroo offers her a box of tissues as he prompts to continue if she can. She nods and sighs, dabbing away the tears. 

“I didn’t know how bad it’d gotten, until I came home from work one night to what shouldn’t have been a quiet house. Usually Morisuke would have the T.V. on, watching his cartoons after finishing his homework. But the T.V. was off, the living room bare, he, nor his father anywhere to be seen.” 

There’s a pause, he knows this part must be hard for her to tell, especially if what’s written in the files is true. 

“So I went to his room, to see if he was okay and-” A pause, shaking breath. “And there he was, pushed into the bed with- with my husband  _ raping  _ him. His  _ father _ . I knew the man had issues, but never did I think it would ever go this far. I ran to grab the phone, to call the police. To do  _ anything _ . But he was hot on my tail, screaming, ripping at my hair and tearing the phone from my hands. He’d dragged me back to the bedroom where he kept a gun. He didn’t plan to let me escape with my life. He’d gone insane. And Morisuke-  _ god _ Morisuke just standing there at the door, nothing but his shirt, looking between us with that terrified expression I’ll never get out of my head. I knew I had to do something. I had to save my son. So I fought. And I screamed. Anything. And the gun was thrown away during this, but it didn’t stop him from putting his hands around my throat. I really thought I would die, screaming at Morisuke to run away. But he didn’t.” 

There’s a stillness in the air as she says the next part. 

“Instead, he picked up the discarded gun, the safety was already off, and he shot Keiske. I wish i could say he only shot him once. I wish I could say he hadn’t emptied the entire clip into him. But then I’d be lying.” 

Kuroo has his elbows propped against the arms of his chair, chin resting in his hands as he listens to this. 

“I wish i could say that’s where this stops. That he was fine after. Or that he learned to work through it. But then i wouldn’t be here would I?” She wipes at her cheeks once more. “He stopped speaking shortly before that, before the incident. I should have known something was wrong then. He always talked. He always had something to say. Now i’ll be lucky if i hear him say one word a week. It’s gotten worse lately. I thought college would help him, keep him focused but after the incident with the Haiba boy.” Shaking sigh into her hands. “I don’t know how to help him. This is our last chance. His last chance. He almost went to jail for what he did. It was this, or an institute. If this doesn’t help, I may never see my son outside those white walls again. He doesn’t deserve this, I just want to help him get better.” 

She’s watching him with a pleading expression, because for her, Kuroo Tetsurou is her last hope for her son. 

Kuroo sits up, resting his arms on his knees as he looks at the woman in front of him with a serious expression. 

“I’m going to try and help your son to the best of my ability. I won’t give up on him.” He promises, it seems to help relax her a bit, offering him a small smile. 

“Thank you Kuroo-san. He’s a good boy, I know he wants to get better. I know somewhere inside he does. That he doesn’t mean it when he says he wants to die. Because I see the way he plays volleyball, and how excited he gets when he watches it on T.V., or the way he gets excited about science and reading. He’s a smart boy, sweet too, it’s just under the layer of anger and hurt and fear that I can't seem to help him get through. I hope you can.” 

✵✵✵✵✵

**TW: implied self harm, mental hospitals**

Kuroo runs a finger down a margin of notes he’d written down during the session.

_ Displays traits of anxiety when i mentioned getting out of the house and socially interacting.  _

_ Might self harm. Keeps pulling at his hoodie sleeves like he’s trying to hide something.  _

_ Deeply rooted trauma.  _

_ Notable fear when mentioning hospitals. _

_ He looks like he wants help, afraid to ask for it? _

He sighs, pushing up his glasses against his nose as he taps the pen against the pad of paper in his hand. 

_ How do I help you? _

Then, an idea. He remembers the therapy group that meets here once a week on Fridays. Two days after his weekly session with Yaku. It’s geared towards trauma therapy in a group setting, so patients can relate and get a better understanding of how to handle and deal with their own traumas while also possibly making friends and relating to other peoples trauma. 

… Maybe that would help him? 

It was worth a shot. 

He picks up the phone and dials his coworker Daichi who ran the group. 

Hopefully this works. 

✵✵✵✵✵

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to leave any comments, questions or tips !!!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks again for reading !!! :D leave a comment if u wanna !!


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